


Hourglass (Time is running out)

by Silence_Will_Fall201



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Stiles, Criminal Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Lydia has a hard time dealing without Stiles, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott has a hard time dealing without Stiles, Stiles doesn't give a fuck, The Sheriff has a hard time dealing without Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-06 19:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silence_Will_Fall201/pseuds/Silence_Will_Fall201
Summary: Set after season 6---When one of the instructors at the FBI academy travels to Beacon Hills to do some background work on Stiles, she finds out all the crimes Stiles has been seen at or involved in, in one way or another. Normally, since Stiles was at the FBI, or at least trying to be, she would let it go and chalk it up to Stiles being interesting in crime solving, until she takes a closer look at some footage from the Hospital.





	1. Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this idea, and I promise to update Expiration Date (If you read it-If not go read it) tomorrow, but this is what I wanted to work on for now before I lose the idea.

FBI agent and academy instructor Erin Brown, walked into the Sheriff's station in Beacon Hills, timing it perfectly so that the town's sheriff, Noah Stilinski, wasn't present, as she had waited until he went out for lunch with his son. Erin walked to the reception desk of the station and smiled at the young female deputy who was taking a call. When the deputy got off the phone, she looked up at Erin.

"Hi, how may I help you?" She asked. Erin's eyes moved to the deputy's name badge, Baxter - her last name - and leant forward on the desk, moving her hand into her pocket to pull out her badge.

"Yeah, FBI." Erin flashed the badge. Deputy Baxter gulped and sat straighter in her chair, nervousness showing.

"Is there something you need?" Deputy Baxter asked, her voice shaking. Erin hummed.

"I need access to all the case files involving Stiles Stilinski." She stated. "I was told by my superior's there were several."

"Uh, of course..." Deputy Baxter stood and led Erin through to the bullpen, then through a door down to the station's files. "Shouldn't you wait until the Sheriff, Stiles' father, comes back from his lunch break?" She asked.

"No thank you, this'll be fine." Erin waited until Deputy Baxter pulled down all the files and left the room before sitting at the desk in the file room opening the first case file.

_Beacon Hills' Ripper._

Was the title of the file. Erin's eyebrows raised in confusion as she read on.

_Known as Kate Argent, The Beacon Hills Ripper, as she was creatively called by the media, murdered most of the Hale family, including Talia Hale, and six years later returned to Beacon Hills to creatively kill several other, later being found dead outside the burnt remains of the Hale household._

Erin continued to read the file, unsure of where Stiles was concerned, until she found the link in a redacted section of the file. Erin held the file up to the light to try and see what it said.

_[Officially off record] There at her moment of death, Christopher Argent, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, ~~Mieczyslaw~~  'Stiles' Stilinski and Derek Hale. It is also believed that Peter Hale was also at the scene and was ki-_

Erin wasn't able to read the rest as it had been gone over multiple times with the black marker, making it virtually unreadable. She sighed and put the file back on the table, taking her phone from her pocket and calling her superior.

 _"Brown?"_ Came the voice of her boss.

"Sir, I'm at Beacon Hills Sheriff's station, you asked me to look into Stilinski, he's got quite a lot of files which he's been mentioned in. I'm logging everything down. I'll call you if I find anything damming."

_"That's what I pay you for, Brown. Get to it."_

Erin sighed and hung up.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Stiles left his father's house, having moved out after his first year at the FBI academy. Stiles drove to his apartment complex and made his way up to the third floor where his apartment was situated. Stiles got his keys out of his pocket but dropped them quickly. Letting out a groan, Stiles bent down to retrieve them, stopping when he saw a letter half sticking out from under his door. Stiles sighed, picked up the letter and walked inside his apartment, flicking on the lights as he entered. Stiles threw the letter on his kitchen counter, going to his fridge for a soda. When Stiles looked back at the letter, his eyes were drawn to the FBI logo on the top corner. Stiles put his soda down on the table and tripped over his own feet as he reached for the letter.

He stabilised himself and tore open the letter, his eyes widened when he read what the letter said.

_Mr. Mieczyslaw Stilinski,_

_It has come to our attention details of your past. We are not at liberty to discuss our findings at the current time, but we must let you know, that since you are a student at the academy, we are officially opening an investigation into you and your past. It will likely turn out as being nothing, as it has with many students before you, but we must notify you of this fact. It is protocol to undertake background evaluations for all our students, you are no exception._

_Sincerely,_

_Agent Erin Brown_

Stiles didn't hesitate to call his father.

"Dad? Did you know the FBI is investigating me?" He asked quickly.

"Deputy Baxter informed me that she let an agent Erin Brown into our files earlier today, she said she was looking into you." Noah sighed "It'll be nothing, don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

"Dad, come on. It's never nothing with me, what files do you have with my name in them?" Stiles furrowed his brows.

 _"Uh..."_ Noah trailed off _"Looks like on every crime scene you've showed up at, and a couple others."_

"Like?" Stiles rubbed his hand over his face.

 _"Kate Argent...what went down at the station with Matt and the Kanima...we've kept everything about the Nogitsune under wraps, lots of redacted files there, but the agent might find something and look at the hospital footage."_ Noah sighed.

"So they might find a lot of pretty freaking damning evidence." Stiles let out a groan. "Are you kidding me?" He muttered.

 _"Hey, it'll be fine, kiddo."_ Noah sounded unconvinced.

"Sure. I'll call you if something happens." Stiles sighed.

_"I'll do the same. Bye, son."_

 

* * *

 

 

Erin walked into her hotel room, carrying coffee she had picked up on the way. She noticed immediately that some of her things in the room had been disturbed. Erin sighed and put her coffee down on the nearest surface, pulling her gun out from her holster.

"Come out immediately." She said loudly. A man walked out from the kitchen, his hands up.

"Relax Agent Brown." Noah Stilinski said. Erin quirked an eyebrow and put her weapon away.

"Do you have a reason for this visit Sheriff Stilinski?" Erin asked, picking her coffee back up.

"Why are you looking into my son?" Noah asked forcefully. Erin sighed and went to sit on the nearest chair.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss this with you, Sheriff." Erin stated.

"Pardon my language, but that's bullshit." Noah grunted "He's my son, I have a right to know."

"Not when it involves a federal investigation." Erin rolled her eyes. "Look, if you have any further enquiries, feel free to contact my superior's at the FBI." Erin stood and handed Noah a business card. "In the meantime, get out of my hotel room." She put her hands on her hips.

"This is crap." Noah muttered as he left the hotel room.

Erin let out a puff of air as she set herself back on the chair.

 

* * *

 

 

Erin found herself at Stiles' apartment the next day. She took a deep breath, her badge in hand, and knocked on the door. It took several moments but eventually Stiles opened the door.

"Uh, can I help you?" Stiles asked.

"Agent Erin Brown, FBI." She flashed him her badge. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure...just uh, come in." Stiles walked inside his apartment, leaving the door open for Erin to follow. She closed the door behind her and surveyed Stiles' apartment with a critical eye. "Don't mind the mess, I haven't particularly been able to clean up yet." Stiles walked to the kitchen "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea?" He motioned to the kitchen counter absentmindedly.

"No, thank you. Do you mind if we sit, please? These questions are of importance." Erin stated.

"Sure." Stiles moved to his couch and Erin followed, sitting adjacent the main couch on an armchair. "You sent me the letter yesterday."

"Yes. It was just to give you a heads up." Erin said.

"Are you sure this sort of investigation is standard protocol?" Stiles raised an eyebrow. Erin ducked her head and chuckled.

"No. I just said that in the letter to make you feel better about the situation." She shook her head.

"Yeah, well it didn't work." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I noticed. I even got a visit from your father last night." She sighed. Stiles inhaled sharply.

"Sorry about that. I didn't know." He said.

"Of course." Erin smiled slightly but her expression quickly turned back into a professional mask. "Do you know what information we received that caused the investigation?"

"Uh, nope." Stiles shook his head.

"It was an anonymous tip..." She pulled out her phone from her pocket and showed it to Stiles. It was a photo, taken from afar, of Stiles with Kate Argent. Stiles held his breath for only a moment. Erin swiped on her screen and another photo showed Stiles with Peter, taken around the same distance.

"Okay...why are these of importance?" Stiles tried not to sound like he knew why.

"Kate Argent was, as you know, creatively called the Beacon Hills Ripper." Erin stated "A known murderer." 

"Yeah, I know. I was friends with Allison." Stiles gulped at the mention of her name.

"You were also there when Kate was murdered." Erin said, causing Stiles to fidget in his seat.

"Uh...how did you...?" He trailed off.

"The file may have been redacted but if you hold it to the light you can still see part of it." Erin explained quickly.

"Okay, so fine, I was there, but I wasn't alone in that." Stiles shrugged.

"No, you weren't." Erin admitted. "What happened with Peter Hale?" She changed the subject.

"Uh, he was a crazy psycho that was catatonic after the Hale Fire." Stiles shook his head slightly "Why?"

"How did you know him?" Erin asked. Stiles went silent, trying to think of a lie that seemed plausible.

"He was Derek's uncle, I knew Derek and met Peter once." Stiles bit his lower lip.

"There's more than one photo of you with Peter Hale, Mr. Stilinski." Erin stated. She pulled up another, from just before the Nogitsune. "Different time to the first picture, how I know? You have hair in this photo." Erin sighed.

"Okay, but how is this relevant to the investigation?" Stiles asked.

"Peter Hale murdered his nurse, stole her car, and probably murdered more that we don't know about." Erin paused "I know what happened the night of the School Dance." Stiles inhaled sharply.

"Then tell me." Stiles said eventually.

"You went with Lydia Martin, correct?" Erin asked, continuing once she saw Stiles nod. "Miss Martin was injured quite badly by Peter Hale on the lacrosse field that night. In the report, it said that you were there when it happened and called Jackson Whittemore to the scene where he proceeded to take Lydia to the hospital after you disappeared."

"How did you know it was Peter?" Stiles looked to the floor.

"It's amazing that no-one actually looked at the school's security footage at the time." Erin smirked. "Where did you go after that, Mr. Stilinski?" Stiles shook his head.

"If you want to interrogate me, arrest me and get me a damn lawyer." Stiles nearly growled. Erin rolled her eyes.

"Fair enough. Stiles Stilinski, you are under arrest." She stood at the same time as Stiles and pulled his arms behind his back, taking her cuffs from her belt and cuffing Stiles "Since I might not be holding you for very long, it seems pointless to read you your rights." She smiled.

"Yeah, whatever. I know them anyway." Stiles grunted.

"Let's go." Erin escorted Stiles out of the apartment and down to her car.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott walked into the Sheriff's station with Lydia and Noah, determined looks on all their faces. Erin and a small group of FBI agents blocked the entrance to the interrogation room. Noah wasn't impressed and demanded to be let in to see Stiles, but Erin had other ideas.

"Since we're likely not holding him for very long, only until we get some answers or new evidence, and even then we might have to take him to jail, this is a temporary set up. You are not authorised to be a part of this investigation, your son or not." Erin explained with a hard look on her face. "We are not allowing him to have any visitors until we get something, so if you insist on waiting until then, you better get comfortable."

"You can't do this." Noah said loudly.

"I'm afraid we can. Like I said, this is temporary." Erin quirked an eyebrow. "Would you like to object further or cooperate?" Noah grunted and walked to his office where Lydia and Scott were waiting.

"What did she say? Can we see Stiles?" Lydia asked.

"No." Scott answered before Noah could.

"Scott, could you stick around? Listen to what they're asking him?" Noah sat down on his desk chair and put his head in his hands.

"Of course." Scott nodded. It was then that he heard a distance voice of Stiles whispering, talking to Scott.

 _"Scott, if you can hear me, tell my dad I'm sorry. They have a lot of evidence against me, I can tell. They're only just starting but there's already things they've found that can put me away."_ Stiles said.

"It's Stiles." Scott stated suddenly.

"What?" Lydia asked.

"He's talking to me."

 _"Tell Lydia I love her...tell her I'm sorry too."_ Stiles finished.

"He says he's sorry, that they have a lot of evidence against him." Scott began. "They have enough already to put him away." His eyes moved to Lydia "He said he loves you." She took a shaky breath as a tear fell down her cheek.

 

 


	2. Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mr. Stilinski we've found something very interesting about you." Erin sat across from Stiles in the interrogation room. Stiles attempted to remain neutral in his expression but was sure Erin could see how nervous he was.
> 
> "And what would that be?" Stiles asked, his voice wavering slightly at the end of the sentence.
> 
> "Footage, from the incident at the hospital a few years ago." She said. Stiles took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "And also, some evidence found at the school library that was catalogued after a 'prank call' not long ago."
> 
> "What are you saying?" Stiles asked Erin, glaring at her.
> 
> "You are being put on trial." She stood "For murder."

Erin watched Stiles as she sat opposite him in the interrogation room. It was their first session of the day and she hoped to get some information out of him. She watched intently as Stiles fiddled with his thumbs, the cuffs around his wrists clanking with the metal table.

"Can you stop that?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Stiles looked up at her from under his brow.

"Hey, according to you I'm a criminal now." Stiles scoffed "Therefore I don't have to listen to cops." Erin rolled her eyes. "Do you actually have any concrete evidence? If not can I go home?"

"We have evidence that you collaborated and possibly aided in killing several people, such as Kate Argent." Erin stated.

"I didn't help kill her actually." Stiles pointed out. "That wasn't me."

"Then who was it?" Erin asked. Stiles kept his mouth shut. Erin let out a groan and stood, walking out of the interrogation room and to the opposite side of the one way mirror. 

"He's not going to talk." She said to another agent. The agent, Mark Burrows, nodded.

"Release him for now." He stated "Issue an ankle monitor."

"Are you sure?" Erin asked.

"Until we can get a proper case together, he gets to go out on bail. The kid's right, we have evidence but it isn't concrete." Burrows stated. Erin sighed.

"Fine." She walked back into the interrogation room and un-cuffed Stiles. He looked at her in confusion.

"Wait what?" He asked.

"Come with me." Erin walked out of the room and to the bullpen of the station. She got Stiles to sit and then another agent walked over, an ankle monitor in her hand.

"You're putting me under house arrest?" Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"For now." Erin made her way to the Sheriff's office and walked inside, Noah, Scott and Lydia still inside.

"What now?" Lydia asked harshly. Erin ignored her and addressed Noah.

"Stiles is being released on bail. He's just been issued an ankle monitor. I hope you have the money for the bail." Erin explained quickly.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles paced in the kitchen of his father's house. According to Erin, he was only allowed to be at his own residence, his father's and the station. Noah thought it was best if Stiles stayed with him while the whole ordeal was just starting, and so Stiles was there, in his father's kitchen while Noah, Scott and Lydia stared at him from the dining room table.

"They're going to have something on me." Stiles said suddenly. "I'm going to go to prison." He slumped down at the empty seat at the table, and rubbed his hand over his hair.

"There's still hope." Scott smiled sadly. Stiles gave him a pointed look and Scott backed off slightly.

"Why are they focussing on you?" Lydia asked "There's as much on any of us then there is on you."

"That's not true..." Noah was looking down at his phone "Deputy Baxter just texted me, Agent Brown has gotten ahold of what she said was pretty damming evidence." Noah looked Stiles in the eyes. "I'm so sorry, son." Stiles nodded and took a deep breath.

"We'll see what happens tomorrow." He bit his lip. "I don't want to go to prison, hell I had a life ahead of me." Stiles chuckled darkly. "Now look what's happened. It's always something, isn't it?" He shook his head. "I'm going to sleep, or at least try to. I'll see you tomorrow." Stiles walked out of the kitchen and up the stars to his old room.

Scott and Lydia were staying over, so Scott excused himself and made his way to the downstairs couch while Lydia walked upstairs to the guest bedroom.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Noah escorted Stiles to the station, followed by Scott and Lydia, as reporters from all over the town gathered around the building, camera's at the ready and pushy journalists yelling questions at Stiles and Noah. The group ignored the questions and went inside as quickly as possible, being faced with Erin and Burrows nearly immediately.

"Sheriff, Mr. Stilinski." Erin greeted "Mr. McCall, Miss Martin." She nodded to each member of the group. Stiles glared at Erin as she motioned for him to step forward. He ducked his head as he did so, holding his wrists out as Erin cuffed them. "Come with me, Mr. Stilinski." Stiles followed Erin, being followed by Burrows behind him to keep him from running. Before he turned the corner to the hallway that led to the interrogation room, Stiles looked back at Noah, Lydia and Scott, a sad look on all their faces, tears in the cases of Noah and Lydia.

Once inside, Stiles was made to sit on the chair he had sat on the day before, the chair facing the one way mirror.

"Mr. Stilinski we've found something very interesting about you." Erin sat across from Stiles in the interrogation room. Stiles attempted to remain neutral in his expression but was sure Erin could see how nervous he was.

"And what would that be?" Stiles asked, his voice wavering slightly at the end of the sentence.

"Footage, from the incident at the hospital a few years ago." She said. Stiles took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "And also, some evidence found at the school library that was catalogued after a 'prank call' not long ago."

"What are you saying?" Stiles asked Erin, glaring at her.

"You are being put on trial." She stood "For murder." Erin walked purposely out of the interrogation room and once she had left, Stiles took it as his cue to breakdown. He banged his head on the metal table 

"Oh I'm so stupid..." He muttered to himself.

 

* * *

 

 

The holding cell they put Stiles in was small, he had no cellmate, which was lucky, but the cell had a direct view of one of the more problematic prisoners who Stiles knew was being transferred later that week. The other prisoner was tall, tattoos up his arms, at least fifty years old with white hair and a beard the same colour. Stiles sat on the metal 'bed' and rested his feet on the bench on the opposite wall, turning up his nose at the smell of the toilet.

"I didn't expect to be treated so badly." He muttered to himself.

"What are you in here for kid? Ain't you the sheriff's boy?" The prisoner across the hall asked.

"Yeah...yeah I am..." Stiles sighed and looked over at the prisoner. "I'm in here for murder, believe it or not." He scoffed.

"Like a kid like you could murder anyway." The prisoner laughed "And I mean that as a compliment."

"Sure...thanks..." Stiles chuckled.

"What's your name, kid?" The prisoner asked.

"Stiles."

"What kind of a name is that?" The prisoner raised an eyebrow and hung his arms out of the bars of his cell.

"It's a nickname." Stiles sighed. "And you are?"

"Call me Mack." He nodded at Stiles. "Don't worry, if you're innocent, you'll be out of here pretty quick."

"Yeah, I wouldn't be sure about that." Stiles stood and walked to the door of his cell, copying Mack's stance and hanging his hands out of his cell. "I've got the FBI on my ass."

"FBI, huh? How'd you attract their attention?" Mack asked.

"Well I was in the FBI academy, but they do extensive background checks apparently." Stiles let out a puff of air "They found quite a lot of damming evidence."

"Is any of it true?" Mack leant forward, his head touching the bars. Stiles said nothing further but gave Mack a look that told him 'yes'. "Damn, kid." Mack grimaced and leant back. "Wouldn't even tell by lookin' at you."

"Sometimes that's the point." Stiles muttered.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles' lawyer visited him the next day. They met in the interrogation room under maximum privacy, meaning audio and visual was turned off for the meeting, only the people on the other side of the one way mirror were able to see what was happening. His lawyer, Marlene Hanson, was a thirty-something year old woman with blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, neutral makeup and a professional suit jacket and pencil skirt.

"Stiles...they have quite a case." Marlene said as she sat on the chair she had moved to sit next to her client.

"Yeah, I figured." Stiles sighed.

"You have to tell me if any of it is true, okay?" Marlene asked "It'll fall under client confidentiality." Stiles took a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay."

"Did you know Kate Argent?" Marlene started. Stiles nodded.

"Sort of. She was Allison's aunt, but she did threaten me, if I recall correctly." Stiles shrugged.

"How about Peter Hale?"

"Yeah, I know him." Stiles laughed darkly. "He's one I actually did aid in killing." Stiles shook his head slightly. Marlene looked slightly taken aback.

"Isn't Peter Hale still alive?"

"It's complicated." Stiles sighed.

"Okay..." Marlene moved on "Can you describe what happened at the hospital?" She asked. Stiles took a deep breath.

"That...that was all my fault." He said in a small voice.

"How so?" Marlene pressed.

"Look, I can't tell you much more than that. They have the footage, meaning they know exactly what happened." Stiles gulped. "That means they know I had a large role to play in it. That and what happened at the school..." Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "In Allison and Aiden's deaths."

"Oh..." Marlene bit her lip. "What happened to Donovan Donati?" She asked, once again changing the subject.

"He...he died." Stiles nodded "It was self defence..." He looked at Marlene darkly. "He died in the library that night."

"So he attacked you?" Marlene asked for clarification. Stiles nodded. "Okay...thank you, that will help in court, I'm sure."

"Maybe..." Stiles sighed.


	3. Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We find the defendant guilty of all charges."

_"In the case of The People Versus Mieczyslaw Stilinski, we find the defendant guilty of all charges."_

That was the sentence that changed Stiles' life. He sat in the back of a prison transport bus, cuffs around his wrists, tugging at his skin, wearing an orange jumpsuit. The man next to him was bald, tattoos everywhere, including his face, and a scar over one eye. Stiles never made eye contact with him or any of the other prisoners on the bus. Three wardens sat at the front, all armed. There would be more waiting for them once they arrived at the prison.

Stiles controlled his breathing, trying not to have a panic attack in the middle of a bus filled with dangerous criminals...which was a group he was suddenly a part of.

"Okay, listen up, or don't, I really don't care." One of the wardens at the front of the bus stood. "We'll be arriving at the prison soon. Some of you are newly arrested," He eyed Stiles "And so, you'll have to get used to it quick. When we arrive, an escort will personally take you to your cells, from there you'll learn the ins and outs of the system pretty quick." He turned to the driver and spun his wrist in a circle "Let's hurry it up, yeah? These guys are getting antsy." The man next to Stiles scoffed at the warden and turned to Stiles.

"Better get some balls, rookie." He grinned darkly, showing missing teeth in the front. Stiles gulped and shrunk into himself, which probably wasn't the best move.

When they arrived at the prison, it took a while for Stiles's escort to retrieve him. He was led into the prison and through the identical hallways all the way to a cell in what seemed like the furthest block from the prison yard. The warden opened the cell and pushed Stiles inside, another man inside - Stiles' cellmate - barley looking up from a book in his hands as he read on his bed situated on the east wall of the cell, Stiles' bed on the west. Stiles walked to the door and put his hands out of the bars, the warden unlocking his cuffs and pulling them away from his wrists.

"Good luck, kid, you're going to need it." The warden said as he walked away. Stiles turned to his cellmate.

"Uh...hi?" Stiles sat on his bed. The other prisoner cast a lazy gaze over Stiles.

"What did you do? You can't be older than twenty." He said.

"Uh, nineteen actually." Stiles rubbed the back of his neck.

"Still. What did you do to get locked up in here?" He gestured around the cell.

"Well, according to the FBI...I murdered a couple people an aided and abetted several fugitives." He shrugged.

"And?" The prisoner raised an eyebrow. "Is any of it true?"

"Yeah..." Stiles muttered "Yeah, pretty much all of it is." 

"What's your name, kid?" He asked.

"Stiles. You?" Stiles eyed the prisoner.

"Alexander Walsh." He sent a surprisingly warm smile Stiles' way, which Stiles in turn found creepy but didn't want to be rude, so he returned it. Alexander was an older man, late thirties, early forties at the most, around Peter's age. He had greying brown hair and what was likely more smile lines than he should at that age.

"So, Alexander..." Stiles trailed off "What did  _you_ do to get in here?"

"Well that's a long story." Alexander laughed.

"We've got time, in case you didn't notice." Stiles shrugged. Alexander nodded and put down his book, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I suppose it started with my wife and ended with her new husband." He sighed "We divorced about a year and a half back, I'm only fresh here as well." He took a deep breath. "Things get bad and I start drinking." He eyed Stiles "I'm drunk one night, stumbling out of a bar, when I see her with her husband and my twelve year old son." Stiles listened intently. "I was drunk, I barely remember starting the fight, but next thing I know he's dead and I have a bloody shard of a beer bottle in my hand." He leant back "I will never forget the look on my son's face."

"Damn..." Stiles muttered.

"Yeah." Alexander let out a dark chuckle. "I may have been drunk, but I was still charged with murder. I'm willing to accept that."

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles paced the prison yard, eyeing the other prisoners warily. Alexander sat in the corner of the yard, reading once again, a group of prisoners played basketball and the rest were either talking in their respective gangs or keeping their heads down. Stiles stopped and went to walk over to Alexander, when one particularly large prisoner stepped in his way, followed by four others all with the same neck tattoo.

"Uh, excuse me." Stiles went to push past but the main prisoner pushed him back.

"You're new here." He grinned.

"Yep, so if you would let me pass that'd be great." Stiles gestured wildly. The man sent a glance to his friends and began laughing.

"You sure have good manners for a criminal." He stated.

"They don't last very long, if you ask people who know me, I tend to run my mouth a lot, you know? Talk and talk, most of the time saying meaningless shit, but every now and then I'll say something worthwhile." He paused and looked straight into his eyes. "Now let me pass." He set his feet firmly on the ground and straightened up his posture slightly, his jaw clenching as he did.

"Looks like we have a kid who doesn't know when to step down." The man chuckled and began circling Stiles, who stood his ground.

"Oh you know, it's called a lack of brain to mouth filter." Stiles chuckled. The man grabbed Stiles by the collar, pulling him towards him and slamming him against a wall. "You know, you could at least ask me out first." Stiles smirked.

"Hey!" Came a call. One of the wardens approached and the man released Stiles. "What the hell is happening here?"

"Nothin'..." The man grunted and walked away, followed by his group.

The warden looked Stiles up and down.

"What the hell, kid?" He asked. "You have a death wish or something?"

"Nah, just bad luck." Stiles sighed. "Thank you."

"Yeah...they'll probably get back at you, you know that right?"

"Yep. I'm staying out of dark corners for the next month." He chuckled darkly. The warden's eyebrows lifted in slight amusement. He then took another look at Stiles' face.

"You wouldn't happen to be Stilinski, by any chance?"

"Yep, that's me." Stiles dusted off his knees. "What's up?"

"You have a visitor."

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles walked into the interrogation room, knowing immediately what was about to happen. The warden escorting him pushed him down onto the chair facing the one-way mirror. He was then handcuffed to a small bar running across the middle of the table and the warden left. Moments later Erin entered the room and sat across from him, a file in between her hands.

"Agent Brown, can't say it's a pleasure." Stiles scoffed.

"Don't tell me you're already behaving like a prisoner?" Erin raised an eyebrow. Stiles shrugged.

"In case you haven't noticed, I  _am_ a prisoner." He eyed her. "So...what is it today? You want to talk about my mom, my behaviour issues, my friends, you name it." Stiles shot out.

"How about Donovan Donati." Erin stated. Stiles froze and moved his tongue around the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenching. When he didn't answer, Erin continued. "He went missing after security cameras caught him walking into the school parking lot one night a few years ago." Stiles took a deep breath. "Camera's caught you there that same night."

"So, what? It's a parking lot. People go there to hang out and do whatever at midnight." Stiles shrugged, eyeing the file.

"Not that night." She pulled out her phone and played footage from what looked to be a security camera from across the street. "The camera didn't have a clear shot, but you can see your car there, and Donovan approaching where I assume you were also." The front half of the jeep was obscured by several trees. The camera didn't catch Donovan attacking Stiles. Moments later, Stiles watched as he ran towards the school, Donovan chasing him, and quickly went inside. "We couldn't figure out what happened after that, we know you used your card to get into the library, and must have dropped it as it was used moments later. We also know someone called 911, but didn't say anything. It was recorded as a prank call."

"You know those damn kids..." Stiles weakly joked.

"Our tech guys indicated it came from your phone." Erin stated. "What happened that night?"

"I don't know." Stiles leant back in his chair, cuffs clanking against the table.

"Like hell." Erin snapped. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"You've got nothing." He said.

"You were there, so was Donovan."

"Yet, there was nothing there when the police arrived, wasn't there?" Stiles smirked. "No body, no trace anything had happened."

"Maybe you're just that good." Erin suggested.

"Maybe I am...but  _that_ wasn't me." Stiles said.

"Did Donovan die?" Erin asked, leaning forward.

"You'll have to get some evidence to suggest that, otherwise, I'm out of here." Stiles looked behind Erin to the glass "Get me out of here!" He yelled.

Moments later, the warden walked in, removed Stiles' cuffs from the table and escorted him out of the interrogation room.

 

* * *

 

 

Back in his cell, Alexander greeted him with an unnerving smile as he yet again read on his bed. Stiles raised his eyebrows and sat on his bed, staring at the wall he was facing.

"So, what happened there? Heard you had a visitor." Alexander said. Stiles hummed a reply.

"Yeah. FBI agent Erin Brown." Stiles said with obvious distaste. "She kind of put me in here."

"Ah." Alexander closed his book and faced Stiles. "How did you attract the attention of the FBI?"

"Long story." Stiles dismissed the topic quickly. "I just need to sleep." And so he did.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Stiles had another visitor. When he walked into the room with the phones, he was surprised to see his dad. Noah looked tired and sick, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Stiles' cuffs were taken off him and he was allowed to approach the booth. Noah greeted his son with a sad smile, which Stiles returned. The pair picked up their respective phones and put them next to their ears.

"Hey dad." Stiles greeted.

"Son...how's it going in there?" Noah asked.

"It's surprisingly not too bad." Stiles let out a laugh. "I get _amazing_  pudding each day!" He said sarcastically. "The food here is, once again surprisingly, not as bad as Eichen House's food was." Noah barked a laugh. "How's things coming on the outside?"

"We're still trying to prove your innocence." Noah sighed. Stiles turned his head to watch the camera before looking back to his father and cupping his hand over the end of the phone, muffling his voice.

"But dad, I am technically guilty." Stiles said in a low voice.

"I know that..." Noah sighed "But I still need you out of here." Stiles removed his hand from the phone.

"How's Scott?" Stiles asked. Noah ran a hand over his forehead.

"He's dealing." Noah said after some pause. "He's lost a bit of his spunk but all the... _stuff_...that happens around Beacon Hills is distracting him."

"That's good. He needs distractions." Stiles bit his lip. "And Lydia?"

"I haven't seen her since the trial." Noah admitted.

"Damn..." Stiles muttered. He turned back to see the warden tap his watch. Stiles grunted under his breath and turned back to his father. "I won't be here much longer...tell them I miss them...that I love Lydia...." Stiles muttered. The warden let out a yell for Stiles to get off the phone. He let out one last string of words. "I love you dad, stay strong for me, okay? Don't you dare hit the bottle again and make sure you're still eating healthy. You hear me?" Noah let out a sad smile and a small not.

"I hear you. Stay safe, son." Noah stated before Stiles hung up the phone.


	4. Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's not who he says he is, you hear me?"

Stiles sat against his cell door, three other inmates around him sitting in a circle. In the middle of the circle were several cups of pudding while each inmate, including Stiles, held a hand of cards. They were playing a game, and Stiles was losing, but it was fun all the same. Next to Stiles on his left was Jason, a Japanese man who was arrested for running cons around the states. Next to Jason was Vic, a gang member, and next to Vic, across from Jason and to the right of Stiles was Cole, a man who Stiles wasn't game to ask why he was arrested.

At the end of the game, Jason had won, causing Vic to go off grumbling back to his cell and Cole to find his way to the phones. Stiles stood and nodded at Jason.

"Well played." He said. Jason smiled.

"Yeah, you need some work." Jason chuckled. Stiles nodded and gestured to the heap of pudding in his arms.

"You going to eat all of that?" Stiles raised an eyebrow. Jason smirked.

"Yep." He said. Stiles laughed and waved Jason off as he made his way towards the doorway to the prison yard. He was stopped by the same inmate who had tried to beat him the day before and his group of prisoners.

"Oh...hey boys." Stiles nodded and frowned slightly. "Do you want to move so I can go outside?"

"You little fucker." The man said with a slight growl.

"Oh...kay..." Stiles backed up slightly. The man raised his fist and before Stiles knew it, he went sailing to the floor with a groan. "Oh come on, man!" He was pulled up by the man and thrown against the wall. The man threw another punch at Stiles and his vision quickly went to black.

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia hesitated before knocking on the door to the Stilinski household. When she did, the door opened quickly to reveal a tired Noah with bloodshot eyes and dark bags underneath them. He wordlessly invited Lydia inside as he walked to the kitchen, leaving the door open for her. Noah sat at the table and motioned for Lydia to sit across from him. Next to Noah was a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting next to a tipped over glass that was spilling alcohol onto the table and the floor. Noah didn't seem to notice.

"Stiles wouldn't want that." Lydia nodded to the bottle. Noah let out a small 'huh' before noticing the bottle and the glass.

"He told me not to but I couldn't." Noah said quietly.

"You went to see him?" Lydia asked with furrowed eyebrows. Noah nodded and let out a small smile.

"He's doing okay...he asked for you." Noah eyed Lydia and watched as she bit her lip. "You should go see him."

"I want to." She said quietly. "But I think I'd burst into tears as soon as I saw him."

"So what?" Noah said quickly. "You're allowed to cry."

"I know...It's just I want to be strong."

"You are, Lydia...just the fact that you're functioning means you're definitely stronger than me." Noah shook his head. Lydia nodded and stood.

"I think I'm going to go visit him." She stated. Noah smiled sadly and rose to his feet, engulfing her in a hug.

"Tell him I miss him, okay?" Noah said. Lydia pulled away and nodded. She walked out of the house and to her car, pausing once inside to look at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. She too had dark bags under her eyes, her hair was messily pulled back into a ponytail and her clothes seemed to not match. Lydia groaned but turned on the car and drove away from the house, driving towards the prison.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles woke to see the three prisoners standing above him, hands on their fists. Stiles tried to move but was quickly pressed to the floor by the foot of the main prisoner. Stiles groaned and fell flat.

"You ready?" The man grinned.

"Nope." Stiles groaned.

Within moments, all three men began kicking and punching Stiles. He jolted in pain with each blow, trying to stand as they did so. He got as far as his knees and tried to block their attacks, sending his left arm flying back into the wall. Stiles let out a yell and tried to endure the pain. It was then that the main man who had a problem with him sent a particularly hard kick to his ribs, sending Stiles to the floor.

"Hey! What's going on here?" Came a yell. The three men quickly stepped away from Stiles. A warden approached and spoke loudly to the three men. "You three just earned yourself weeks in solitary." The warden beckoned over three others and they took the men away. The warden then knelt next to Stiles. "You okay, kid?"

"I..." Stiles trailed off and let out a groan of pain when he tried to sit up. "Hurts." Was all he said as his breathing became shorter.

"Okay..." The warden took out his walkie and pressed the 'talk' button. "We need medical in cell block five. I repeat, we need medical in cell block five."

 

* * *

 

 

After Stiles was patched up, with thankfully no broken ribs, he limped as he walked to the phone room where he had another visitor. He was surprised to see Lydia on the other side of the glass and he sat down with an expression on his face that could only read happiness. Lydia looked at Stiles, concern clearly etched on her face.

"What happened?" She asked after they had both picked up their phones. Stiles gestured to his face dismissively. On his face, he had a cut above his eyebrow, a developing black eye that made it difficult for him to see out of it and a split lip. Everywhere else, he had bruised ribs, his left arm had been dislocated at the shoulder, putting it in a sling, and his right knee had been pulled out of place. The doctors at the prison had put his leg back.

"I got beat up." Stiles let out a chuckle, wincing as he did so.

"I miss you...your father does too." Lydia said. Stiles gave her a small smile.

"You came." He stated.

"Yeah...I wanted to see you..." She trailed off.

"Have you seen Scott?" Stiles asked. Lydia shook her head.

"No." She looked down for a moment and when she looked back at Stiles, tears were falling down her cheeks. "We're trying everything to get you out."

"I know."

"It's not working." She said, deflated. "It's an airtight case." Stiles closed his eyes for several seconds and took a deep breath.

"I know." He looked Lydia in they eyes. "It's okay."

"It's not okay." Lydia sobbed. "We need you, Stiles."

"No, you don't." Stiles seemed calm as he spoke. "You don't need me, Lydia. You've never needed me. Scott doesn't need me."

"Your dad does." Lydia stated. "He needs you."

"He's..." Stiles trailed off, reading Lydia's expression. "He's drinking again isn't he?" Lydia nodded. Stiles cursed under his breath. "You take care of him for me, yeah?"

"I will...I will." Lydia nodded. "Stiles..." She took a deep breath. "I love you."

"I love you too, Lydia..." He gave her a sad smile. "Trust me...you don't need me. You're strong." Stiles put the phone back on the hook and stood, leaving the room, escorted by a warden as Lydia sobbed in her chair.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles walked back to his cell when he was stopped by Jason and Vic.

"Your cell-mate, Alexander." Vic stated. "What has he told you about why he's in here?"

"Uh...He killed his ex-wife's husband while he was drunk." Stiles shrugged. "So what?"

"No one knows why he's actually in here. The story changes every time." Jason said in a low whisper. "He told me he killed his neighbour."

"And he told me he was just a serial thief." Vic said. Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked.

"He's not who he says he is, you hear me? The dude's been in here a lot longer than he says." Vic stated. "I'd be careful around him, Stiles."

"Yeah...thanks." Stiles nodded and patted Vic and Jason on their shoulders as he walked in between them to get back to his cell.

Once inside his cell, he eyed Alexander who was once again reading as he made his way to his bed. Alexander looked up quickly and his eyes found Stiles.

"What did Vic and Jason want?" Alexander asked.

"Oh...nothing...just to tell me about the next card game tomorrow." Stiles lied quickly.

"Oh. Fair enough." Alexander turned back to his book and Stiles could have sworn he saw his eyes flash blue.


	5. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't understand what I am, do you Stiles?"
> 
> "Oh, I understand perfectly"

Stiles began his investigation the day after he was told of the inconsistencies in Alexander's story. It began with little things, like trying to trigger Alexander's eyes to flash, or to cause a growl to escape his lips. Stiles was committed to testing his theory, but had very little luck. Besides small eye flashes seen from the corner of his eyes, Stiles could never quite get concrete evidence.

Suffice to say he wasn't impressed.

Eventually, days turned into weeks and Stiles was beginning to feel the effects of prison. He began to forget about Alexander, and started to worry about saving his own skin. Several of the prisoners had taken notice of him and Stiles had regularly been beaten up, only managing to land several punches and even knock one of the other prisoners out one time. That had earned him a week in solitary.

Once he returned from solitary, however, he was surprised to see Scott sitting across from him in the phone room. Scott looked tired, his eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath, his skin was a few shades lighter than usual, as he looked shocked to just be sitting near Stiles. The two picked up their respective phones and said nothing for several moments, both of them thinking of words to say to each other. Eventually Scott broke the silence.

"You look different." Scott told him, taking a deep breath. Stiles let out a dark chuckle and scratched the side of his face where patchy stubble had begun to grow.

"Really? What's changed?" Stiles replied with a twitch of his mouth.

"The black eye, for one." Scott dipped his head slightly in a motioning gesture.

"It's good to see you." Stiles smiled.

"Yeah. You too." Scott stared at the bench attached to the wall. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"Yeah." Stiles leant back in his chair, a bark of laughter that held no humour escaped his lips. "Reason?" He could be petty.

"I was trying to figure out how to go about it, how to deal." Scott admitted. Stiles learnt forward, his eyes staring at Scott dangerously as he spoke the next few words, nearly spitting with rage.

"You're not the one in fucking prison." Stiles narrowed his eyes as Scott flinched.

"I'm sorry." Scott said, causing Stiles to roll his eyes.

"Either way, you're here now." Stiles sighed. Scott nodded and looked around quickly.

"We think, well, Lydia thinks, that there's a way to get you out." Scott stated. Stiles perked up and pressed the phone tighter to his ear.

"Go on." Stiles prompted. Scott shook his head.

"Not now." He said "We're still working out the details."

"Can you at least tell me something?" Stiles grunted.

"There's some evidence they haven't used. Evidence to do with a self-defence plea, Lydia said." Scott whispered into the phone. "She thinks she can formulate a good enough case to take to your lawyer." Stiles creased his eyebrows in confusion.

"Yeah, why is Lydia suddenly my lawyer and Marlene is doing crap all?" Stiles asked more to himself.

"Stilinski! Times up!" Came a call from the warden at the door. Stiles cast one last look at a sad and tired Scott, before placing the phone back on the rack and standing, shoving his hands into the pockets of his orange prisoner uniform.

 

* * *

 

 

Erin let out a yell as she closed the case file in front of her with a slam on the desk, making several personal items shake. Noah watched on, letting out several puffs of air, trying to keep himself from marching into  _his_ office, kicking out Erin, and punching her in the face. Deputy Jordan Parrish walked up to Noah and let out a hum as he watched Erin as well.

"She's frustrated." Parrish stated. Noah rolled his eyes and muttered.

"She's  _frustrating_."

"How's Stiles?" Parrish ended up asking to hopefully distract Noah from staring daggers at Erin.

"I don't know. Scott went to see him today. He's been in solitary." Noah informed the deputy. Parrish raised an eyebrow.

"For what?" He asked.

"Knocking out another inmate. He got into a fight. Again." Noah sighed "He just can't seem to stay out of trouble."

"Yeah? How many fights has he been in?"

"Several."

Noah and Parrish watched as Erin opened the door to the office and walked out, her strides purposeful and long, almost like a march. Erin stopped in front of the two and eyed Parrish while addressing Noah.

"I need your help." She said to Noah. Noah scoffed and shook his head.

"Like I'm going to help the woman who locked my son away." Noah crossed his arms.

"It's not a choice, Sheriff." Erin sighed. "Deputy, can you leave us?" Parrish nodded and hesitated before walking away. "I expect full cooperation by your department with my investigation, however, I've run into a bit of a problem."

"And what would that be, Agent?" Noah asked.

"There are several files missing relating to your son's case. I know that because I read them not long ago. Tell me, who has been tampering with my evidence?" Erin stared at Noah, her eyes hardened and never blinking.

"I have no idea." Noah told her, though she seemed unconvinced.

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia sat in the dining room of Noah Stilinski's house, files sprawled out all over the table and the floor. Lydia had a notebook in front of her and she was furiously writing as she flicked through pages of the files. The door to the house opened and someone's rushed footsteps caused Lydia to jump with a slight shriek. When she saw it was only Scott, Lydia groaned and dropped her head on the table.

"I am getting no-where." She groaned, her voice muffled slightly.

"Stiles is really anxious to know what you've got." Scott told her. Lydia sighed and pulled herself back into a straight postured sitting position. She gestured around the room and sent a glare Scott's way.

"I have nothing."

"Really? I told Stiles you did." Scott pulled out the next seat over and sat on it, staring at Lydia the whole time.

"Well I don't have  _nothing_ nothing." She sighed, causing Scott to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. "I did say there was a possibility of self-defence, but I've talked to Marlene and Stiles admitted to a few things."

"Like what?" Scott asked her with a frown, that would make it much harder to get Stiles out.

"The incident at the hospital for one." Lydia stated "He couldn't get out of that, they had footage."

"Wouldn't the footage show the Oni?" Scott was confused.

"Scott, you were at the trial." Lydia rolled her eyes. "It was a different part of the incident they got footage from."

"Oh, yeah. Right." Scott muttered. "Why is Marlene telling you this stuff?"

"Because she likes me." Lydia smirked. Scott raised an eyebrow and gave her a pointed look. "Okay, so I may have come off a little intimidating."

"You blackmailed her, didn't you?" Scott asked. Lydia nodded and bit her lip nervously. Scott barked a laugh.

 

* * *

 

Walking around the prison yard, Stiles eyed the cameras more than he eyed the people. Which turned out to be a mistake as he was quickly surrounded by a group of other inmates, all of them bigger in stature to Stiles with tattoos covering most of their bodies that Stiles could see. Stiles stopped in the middle and turned around quickly, looking for a way out of the situation. He didn't find one.

"Uh, hi there, fellas." Stiles began "You want to move out of the way for me?"

"We've been watching you, kid." One of the men said. He was bald with several missing teeth.

"Thanks, but I have a girlfriend." He shot back sarcastically. The man rolled his eyes and let out a slight chuckle.

"I've seen you fight."

"Not very well, I assure you." Stiles stared into the man's eyes, getting into his space to make himself seem more intimidating than he felt.

"Sure, but you knocked out Ernesto over there." The man gestured behind him to a man, Ernesto, sitting on a bench near the corner of the yard with a black eye and split lip.

"That was purely by accident." Stiles began to say, he knew what was coming and he didn't want to be a part of it.

"We're giving you a chance to show us what you got." The man told Stiles. Maybe he didn't know what was coming.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"We're looking for a new member. One of our own, Sam, was killed last week." The man gestured around him to the group.

"You want me to join your...gang?" Stiles asked, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

"Maybe after a little while. We said we're looking for a new member, not taking one." The man chuckled. "I'm Billy."

"Uh...Stiles." Stiles shook Billy's hand and wiped his own discretely on the pants of his uniform afterwards. Billy and the group of gang member left Stiles after that and he paced quickly around the yard. "Oh, I'm in deep shit." He continued to mutter to himself over and over again.

 

* * *

 

 

Back in his cell for the night, Stiles couldn't sleep, so he took to staring out the bars and watching the camera above him turn. There was a shifting sound behind him and Stiles turned back, noticing Alexander had sat up. In the dark, Stiles could barely see Alexander, as their cells had been blacked out for the night, a greenish light in the halls the only source of light until the prison watch shone the spotlight over the cell blocks, the light coming through the windows.

"What are you doing?" Alexander asked Stiles. Stiles shrugged.

"Watching the camera."

"Planning an escape?" He walked over and sat next to Stiles.

"Nah." Stiles responded with a sigh. "Just couldn't sleep."

"Did something happen?" Alexander seemed to show a fake sense of concern. It reminded Stiles of Peter and he couldn't help the shudder that ran down his back.

"Nope." Stiles knew he sounded unconvinced. The spotlight shone over their cell block, the light coming through the windows situated several meters above the ground of the hallway. The spotlight shone over their cell, which was when Stiles saw, clear as day, the change in Alexander's eyes. They looked like an animals in the light. Stiles jumped back. "Shit!" He cursed.

"I was hoping to keep it a secret for a while longer." Alexander stood and walked over to his bed, claws replacing his fingernails as he inspected them. "You don't understand what I am, do you, Stiles?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly." Stiles stated, his breathing becoming irregular, shortened and shallow. He was on the verge of a panic attack, but he had to keep his cool.

"Then what am I?" Alexander stared at Stiles, his eyes shifting to blue.

"A werewolf." Stiles stated with a gulp.

"Interesting..." Alexander drawled. "I never meet many humans who know what I am. Tell me, Stiles, do you run with a pack?"

"You might've heard of them. We've got a true alpha." Stiles said nonchalantly. Alexander hummed.

"I've heard of him." Alexander started to stand and move towards Stiles. "Though I heard he's a coward."

"He's not." Stiles said, his breathing getting faster and faster as Alexander moved towards him. Within seconds, Alexander had shifted fully and was going for Stiles.

"Well he's not going to save you now."

Stiles' breath caught in his throat as he stopped breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates! I've been really busy and I've had several medical issues to the point where I had to be hospitalised for a little while. I'm fine now, so I can start updating again!


	6. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why did you do it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SORRY IT POSTED WITHOUT ACTUALLY FINISHING SORRY!!!
> 
> I'M SO ANGRY!!!
> 
> I was writing this chapter, finished it and everything and it got deleted!! OHMYGOD THIS HAS HAPPENED SO MANY TIMES!!!
> 
> Round Two...

The lack of heaters in the prison really got to Stiles as he rolled away from Alexander's claws. He couldn't stop thinking about how cold it was, and even though he was quite literally fighting for his life, he couldn't stop himself from getting distracted. Alexander let out a growl and ran forward, pinning Stiles to the wall.

"You have no-where to run..." He grinned, his fangs poking through.

"Are you sure?" Stiles kicked Alexander in the groin and scrambled away from imminent danger. "I've gotten out of a situation like this once before."

"Oh really?" Alexander seemed unconvinced. "And what happened to the other guy?" He advanced for another strike.

"He died." Stiles hit Alexander's hands away from him and ran behind him. Alexander thrust his claws backwards to try and stab Stiles, but Stiles was, surprisingly, faster. Stiles grabbed Alexander's wrists and plunged his claws into his own neck, sending him to the ground.

Alexander spat blood as he stared at Stiles in surprise. Stiles watched as the werewolf took his last breath and looked down to his blood soaked hands. They shook involuntarily with shock and Stiles slid down the wall, hugging his knees as he felt a panic attack rising. He tried to calm his breathing and stared at the lifeless corpse of his cellmate. He didn't realise it was that easy to kill a werewolf.

 

* * *

 

 

"Why did you do it?" Erin sat across from Stiles, files under her fingers as she drummed on the table, the sound causing Stiles to glare at her in hopes that she stopped.

"Do what?" He tried to play dumb.

"I'm not going to fall for that game." Erin grunted, taking her fingers off the table and opening the files, setting out crime scene photos of Alexander's death in front of Stiles. He took in a sharp breath and refused to look at the photos, electing to, instead, stare at Erin. "Look at them."

"No."

Erin grunted and picked up a photo of Alexander's head and neck, shoving it into Stiles face. Stiles flinched and looked at the photo. "Why did you do it?" she asked him. "I won't ask again.

"Maybe I was trying to help..." He muttered.

"Somehow I doubt that." Erin placed the photo back on the table. "What killed him?"

"What do you mean?" Stiles search her face, her expression telling him that she had questions about the supernatural. "You don't know?"

"You were there." Erin shrugged.

"He killed himself." Stiles elected to say.

"Bullshit." Erin leant forward. "He had multiple stab wounds on his neck. That's not something you do to yourself."

"Well maybe it is, but you haven't found the answer as to how, yet." Stiles told her cryptically. "Get your answers, then come back to me to talk."

 

* * *

 

 

Erin stared at the case files on her desk back in Virginia. She had gotten straight onto a plane after interrogating Stiles. She was needed with other cases. She placed Alexanders death report on top of a stack of deaths by animals in weird places in Beacon Hills. There were three other stacks for deaths fitting the same description in other states. Whatever Stiles had been talking about had been going on in other places. She needed answers.

Suddenly, her phone rang and she answered with a simple 'hello'.

 _"Erin? It's Burrows."_ Came his voice from the other end.

"What's up?" Burrows was her friend and so she often talked much more casually with him than the rest of her colleagues.

_"Turn your TV onto Channel Ten."_

Erin did as he told her and watched as the reporter stood outside the Stilinski House, with a large crowd of residents behind her, facing the camera with signs and shouting words she couldn't understand.

_"I'm Lindsey Morgan, coming to you live from Beacon Hills California, where residents of the town have begun a so-called revolution, started by one young woman, Lydia Martin, a nineteen year old. The subject of the day, Stiles Stilinski's wrongful imprisonment to San Quentin State Prison. Stilinski was convicted of multiple counts of murder, however, Miss Martin suggests that the evidence was purely circumstantial, and some of it was even staged. Have a listen to what she had to say"_

The screen flashed to Lydia standing outside the police station.

 _"He was going for a job at the FBI. The FBI seemed to find things that could get Stiles arrested, including showing up to crime scenes, when he was just interested in them. In high school he would often help his father solve cases, he has a natural talent for this. You can't tell me that he deserved to go to prison just for helping save lives! He didn't kill anyone!"_ Lydia exclaimed in the news.

Erin groaned and flicked off the TV, putter her phone back up to her ear to talk to Burrows.

"She can't do that. She has no grounds for any of this." Erin stated.

 _"No, but she has community support."_ Burrows pointed out.  _"When has that never amounted to anything?"_ Erin stayed silent.  _"Exactly."_

"She's only young. She's not a lawyer. She has no idea what she's up against, so why are we worrying about this?" Erin asked.

_"She's the smartest student to ever go through Beacon Hills High, closely followed by Stilinski. Some people in the department over here are talking about how Martin seems to be taking over Stilinski's case from his lawyer, and she's got a lot of evidence to back herself up. She's even got a website."_

"Shit." Erin cursed. "Get me on the next flight to California, I need to have a word with her."

_"Will do, see you soon."_

 

* * *

 

 

Erin watched everyone in the plane around her. A mother wrestling her two children into their seats, and old man being helped into his by a hostess, a pregnant woman rushing to the on-board toilet, a teenager refusing to turn of his phone while he was being hassled by his overbearing mother and of course, the young, blonde woman next to Erin text frantically with someone who she assumed was her boyfriend.

"Why are you going to California?" She asked Erin.

"Business." Erin told her quickly.

"Oh really? Me too!" The woman leant closer, getting into Erin's personal space, making her uncomfortable. Erin shifted towards the window. "What do you do?"

"Um...I'm an FBI agent." Erin glanced out the window, her mind drifting to how long she would live if she shot the window out and fell.

"That's so cool! I'm a wedding planner, which makes my parents really upset, because they think I'm 'wasting my education', which I kind of am to be fair, but I love it so that's fun." She ranted. She then turned to Erin. "They do, however, like my night job." Her eyes changed colour from green to an electric blue, making Erin jump back in shock, her heart racing.

"What are you?" Erin asked. "Who are you?"

"Oh, my name's Hannah Walsh. You might know my father, Alexander." She said dismissively. "I'm a werewolf." She grinned at Erin with too many teeth.

"Why do you want me?" Erin asked, fear making its way to her voice.

"I was told you're the person I need to see in order to get to my father's body."

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles felt the cool air nip at his skin, goosebumps covered every piece of himself that was exposed and he was sure it went into places that weren't. He sat up in bed, the dim lighting of the cell block causing his eyes to strain as he tried to look around. He was acutely aware of the lack of a cellmate and silently wished that Alexander was actually who he said he was. It was then that Stiles heard a howl, one that, even though he was human, he would recognise anywhere. Stiles groaned as he realised. He never expected anyone to be there, let alone who was outside the prison.

Peter Fucking Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: San Quentin State Prison is the prison used for Iron Heights in Arrow and The Flash.


	7. Morals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And what happened to the original owner of that uniform?"
> 
> "He's in a better place now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Peter's shown up!

Stiles thought he was mistaken, that he didn't hear Peter's howl. Scratch that, he  _hoped_ he was mistaken.

Turns out he wasn't.

While walking back to his cell after the prison yard had been closed off, Stiles stopped as he saw a warden walking into his cell. Groaning inwardly, Stiles followed the warden, glaring daggers at him once they were face to face.

"Peter." Stiles greeted.

"Stiles." Peter nodded, a smirk set on his face. Stiles didn't move, but his jaw clenched in anticipation for what was to come.

"What are you doing here?" He asked finally.

"Coming to check on my favourite human." The smile Peter gave made Stiles shudder inside.

"And what happened to the original owner of that uniform?" Stiles gestured to the clothes that Peter was wearing.

"He's in a better place now." Peter rolled his eyes, the sarcasm biting through his regular indifferent tone. "I heard you killed your cellmate."

"It was an accident."

"Sure it was." Peter was unconvinced, but let it go. "Heard he also died under mysterious circumstances." He stared straight at Stiles, prompting a response.

"He was a werewolf." Stiles told the older man. "Stabbed in the neck by his own claws." Peter winced.

"Not a nice way to go." He told Stiles.

"Should't you be on duty,  _warden_ , instead of pestering a prisoner renowned for being _violent?"_ Stiles raised his eyebrows at the last word, making a point to Peter, who seemed to only grin as he spoke.

"Just letting you know the pack is on their way to let you out." Peter said. "Lydia mostly."

"Then why are you here?" Stiles asked firmly.

"I'm the backup plan." Peter shrugged. "If they can't get you out, I will." Peter pushed past Stiles to leave his cell. Stiles watched Peter as he walked out of his sight.

"I'm fucked..." Stiles groaned as he slumped onto his bed.

 

* * *

 

 

For the next few days, Stiles could practically feel Peter's eyes on him wherever he went. In the prison yard, in the cafeteria, in his cell, everywhere. Jason seemed to notice Stiles' aggravation and took him aside after a game of cards. Stiles wasn't paying too much attention to the other prisoner, just glaring at Peter who was smirking from his post near the entrance to their cell block.

"What's up with you?" Jason asked. Stiles shook himself out of his daze and turned his attention to Jason.

"Nothing." he put on a false bravado of indifference.

"Don't lie to me, you do realise I'm brilliant at reading people, right?" Jason raised an eyebrow. Stiles groaned and dropped the mask.

"New warden's staring at me all the time," He gestured vaguely in Peter's direction.

"So?" Jason looked quickly over his shoulder. "Maybe's he's Agent Brown's inside man." He suggested.

"No." Stiles shook his head. "He's from my home town. I know him."

"Oh." Jason winced and looked back to Stiles. "Good luck with that then."

"Yeah." Stiles went back to staring at Peter once Jason left. "If Agent Brown sees you here, you're dead." Stiles muttered, hoping that Peter was listening in. He watched as Peter's expression turned back into a grin. He heard. 

 

* * *

 

 

Erin walked off the plane at LAX, closely followed from behind by Hannah. Her heart was racing and sweat was beading on her forehead.

"Keep walking, Agent Brown." Hannah told Erin from behind. "Wouldn't want a slip of my claws now, would we?" She had her hand on the small of Erin's back, her index finger's claw tapping on the spot where her spine was. If Hannah wanted to, she could cut Erin's spinal cord.

Erin and Hannah passed security, giving them smiles as they walked on. Hannah's smile seemed genuine to those that couldn't read people as well as Erin could, but to her, Hannah's smile was like a predator spotting her prey. Erin figured that's exactly what it was like. Hannah put a hand on Erin's shoulder and told her to stop.

"What are you doing?" Erin asked with a shaky voice.

"I would've thought you'd be better under pressure, Agent Brown." Hannah chuckled.

"It's not everyday I find out supernatural creatures are real." Erin gulped. Hannah tilted her head and let out a laugh, one not filled with emotion of any sort. It sounded  _dead_.

"I need to know where you're going to take me." Hannah tightened her hold on Erin's shoulder and pressed her claw into her back, hard enough to draw blood.

"The morgue," Erin let out a pant as she felt the pain in her back. "Near the prison."

"What type of security?" Hannah asked. "Heavy?"

"Not really." Erin said. "If you're with me, you'll be fine." She let out a gasp as Hannah's claw pressed harder into her back.

"Then we better get moving."

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles grunted as the prisoners pushed past him. The sound of the crowd yelling and fighting made Stiles wince and want to retreat back into his cell...except his cell was at the end of the block, and around a hundred prisoners stood in between him and his cell. It was a prison riot, and Stiles was right in the thick of it. People pushed him around as they moved forward, yelling at the wardens and throwing what little they had on their person through the bars that separated them to the wardens.

Stiles actually looked for Peter.

He found him pushing back a particularly aggressive prisoner. Stiles sent the werewolf a hopeless look as he tried to avoid getting trampled by gangsters and men much larger than he was. Peter saw Stiles and spoke quickly to a warden beside him. Stiles couldn't hear what was being said, but within the next few moments, Stiles was getting pulled into the hallway with the wardens by Peter.

"What?" Stiles asked quickly.

"Told them Agent Brown sent me to keep you safe." Peter told Stiles.

"Why?" Stiles stood behind Peter as he took out the baton of the man who originally owned the uniform he wore and used it to push back several prisoners.

"Get him out of here! Solitary if necessary!" One of the other wardens yelled to Peter. Peter nodded and grabbed Stiles by the arm and led him around a corner, stopping when they were out of the eye-line of the other wardens.

"Where's solitary?" He asked Stiles "I heard you were there for a while." Stiles rolled his eyes and shrugged Peter's hand off his arm.

"This way." He grunted, leading Peter to the solitary cell block. Peter put his hand back on Stiles' arm before they entered the block and nodded to the wardens posted at the area.

"What did this one do?" One of the wardens asked "Again." He added.

"There's a riot on his cell block." Peter told the warden, who nodded in acceptance and led them through.

"Hey, wait!" The warden called, making Peter and Stiles stop in the hallway. Peter and Stiles turned, facing the warden who had left his post to approach the two, his hand on his baton strapped to his belt. "I don't think I've seen you before. What's your name?"

"Jones." Peter told the warden quickly. "It's my first week."

"Really?" The warden raised his eyebrows. "I don't recall any new guys being recruited."

"I'm a transfer from another prison. Sent by Agent Brown personally to deal with this one," He gestured to Stiles vaguely. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes. Because that's not your uniform,  _Jones_." The warden pointed out. He took out his baton and walkie, holding the baton up to Peter. "Stanley dropped some mustard on his pocket, told us that he was going to clean it up, but never did. That's Stanley's uniform you're wearing,  _Jones._ " The warden held his walkie up to his mouth and pressed 'talk'. "Yeah, this is Wilson in Solitary, we have an imp-" Wilson never got to finish as Peter was on him in seconds, his claws through Wilson's throat.

"False alarm." Peter said into the walkie and placed it nicely on the ground as Wilson dropped quickly.

"Really? You had to do that?" Stiles nearly yelled at Peter. "Are you fucking kidding me!" He cursed.

"You really developed a potty mouth in prison, Stiles." Peter smirked. "Now come on, we don't have much time." Peter began to walk in the direction of the exit to the block, when he stopped, turning quickly to stare at Stiles, who was standing, glaring at Peter, having never moved. "Do you want to get out of here or not, Stiles?" Peter asked.

"I do." Stiles told him. He then advanced quickly towards the werewolf. "But I want to do it the right way." He stared straight into Peter's eyes as he got into his space, an action of intimidation. "Break me out now, and I'm a fugitive. I don't want that."

"Your call." Peter shrugged. "Either way, I have to leave now." He gestured to Wilson. 

"Your visit was not appreciated." Stiles grunted at Peter, who let out an amused chuckle.

"I'll at least lock you in the cell." Peter shrugged and picked up Wilson's keys for the cells. Stiles huffed and waited for Peter to open one of the cells before walking inside and watching as Peter locked it. "Have fun, Stiles." He smirked.

"Fuck off." Stiles growled threateningly.

Stiles watched from the cell as Peter ran out of the cell block.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott slammed the phone down, causing Derek, Lydia and Malia to all turn their head up in surprise as Scott's eyes turned red quickly, his heart rate going up.

"Scott, calm down." Malia said to him, placing her hand on his. Quickly, Scott's heart rate slowed and his eyes returned to brown.

"What happened?" Lydia asked. Scott gave her an annoyed look, yet it wasn't directed at her.

"I just heard from Peter." Scott sighed. Derek perked up.

"Peter? Why Peter?" Derek questioned.

"He's in San Quentin." He watched as the group's eyes flickered with recognition.

"The prison..." Lydia muttered.

"Yep." Scott grunted. "Apparently he's been posing as a warden for just under a week." Derek shook his head, sighed and look to the floor. "He killed a guard."

"Of course he did." Malia rolled her eyes. "Did he see Stiles?"

"Yeah." Scott nodded. "Almost got him out too."

"What happened?" Lydia asked.

"Stiles voluntarily stayed back." His eyes found Lydia's. "He wants to do it the right way, the legal way.  _Doesn't want to be a fugitive_ , said Peter." He quoted. "Who can blame him. He's on multiple counts of murder already." Scott shrugged.

"I'm still going to try and get him out." Lydia said firmly. "There's no way Stiles can stop me from doing that."

"We'll still do everything we can, no one's giving up." Scott told her. "I just hope Stiles hasn't."


	8. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Initiation time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more plot for you all

Erin held her breath as she and Hannah passed the security posted outside the morgue. Hannah had her claw still embedded in Erin's back, waiting for something to go wrong so she had an excuse to snap her spinal cord. Erin led Hannah to the basement level, where several morticians were working on bodies, some stitching up the bodies post-autopsy, while others were just beginning.

"Agent Brown, how may I help you?" One of the morticians approached Erin and Hannah. Erin gave him a tight lipped smile.

"I'm here to inspect the body of Alexander Walsh." Erin told him. The mortician raised his eyebrows.

"Is there a reason, Agent Brown?" He asked as he walked over to a specific freezer, opened the door and pulled out the tray.

"This is Alexander Walsh's daughter. She's here to confirm his identity." Erin told the quick lie. The mortician nodded and pulled the plastic sheet over Alexander's body, showing his face to his daughter.

"I'll leave you alone." The mortician told the two. He walked away quickly, not wanting to interfere with the process of a grieving daughter.

"There, are you happy?" Erin grunted at Hannah. Hannah rolled her eyes and released Erin, a gasp quickly escaping the agent's mouth at the absence of pain.

"Nice lying, Agent Brown." Hannah grinned with fangs showing. She walked over o Alexander's body and unsheathed her claws. Erin stared as Hannah made an incision at the base of Alexander's neck, pulling out what looked to be a flash drive encased in a small plastic bag.

"What the hell is that?" Erin questioned. Hannah smiled as she stared at the device.

"My way out." Hannah said.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles moved around the prison yard after being released from solitary once again. He had been questioned by wardens and officials about Wilson's death, but ultimately they concluded that if Stiles knew something, he wouldn't give it up. They were right. Stiles was internally laughing at the fact that, at least it seemed as though, never once looked at the security tapes.

"Hey, Stilinski!" Came a call. Stiles turned around and saw Billy beckoning him over. Stiles jogged over to the table that Billy's gang was inhabiting and sat next to Ernesto, who glared at him, his eye still bruised. Stiles gave Ernesto a taunting smile, but was met with a grunt.

"What's up?" Stiles asked.

"You're in." Billy told him. Stiles' eyes widened.

"W-what?" He stuttered. Billy gave him a confused look, but shook it off.

"The group came to a decision. We like you, you're in." Billy explained briefly " _Are_ you in?" Stiles thought over his options in that moment. He knew it would take a while for him to get out of prison, and that having friends that were significantly more intimidating could help his stay in prison at least feel more comfortable, where there would be less of a threat to his physical health, though his mental health might suffer.

"Yeah, why not." Stiles shrugged. "I'm in."

"Good." Billy grinned while Ernesto rolled his eyes and shuffled away from Stiles on the seat. "You'll need the tattoo if you're going to continue with us."

"The what now?" Stiles' eyes widened with fear. Billy pulled up his sleeve on his uniform to show a tattoo of a griffin, with no other markings. Stiles stared at the tattoo then moved his attention of the rest of the gang, who had all pulled up their sleeves to show the same tattoo on their shoulders. "I'm-uh-not really a fan of needles." Stiles said to them "Especially when they're made in a prison." He added.

"If you're going to be with us, you'll get the tattoo." Billy lowered his gaze, coming off intimidating.

"Okay, look, can I think this over?" Stiles asked. Billy sighed and nodded.

"You have a day."

 

* * *

 

 

Scott visited Stiles later that day, coming with Lydia. Stiles was surprised at the visit, but welcomed it all the same. Lydia was tired and wore a sloppy sweatshirt, Stiles noticed it was one of his, while Scott seemed all too optimistic as usual. Stiles let out a small smile, but was otherwise not feeling it.

"Hey." Lydia said through the phone. Scott didn't need to have it next to his ear as he could hear everything that was said on both sides.

"Hi." Stiles responded.

"Sorry you had to deal with Peter." Scott told him, leaning close to the phone so Stiles could hear him.

"Yeah, me too." Stiles let out a half-hearted chuckle. "What's going on?"

"Does something need to be happening for us to visit you?" Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"Nope." Stiles scratched his chin and leant back in his chair. "I want to get out of here."

"Then you should have taken Peter's offer." Lydia pointed out.

"Did he tell you why I didn't?" Stiles asked. Lydia nodded in response, which prompted Stiles to continue. "Then there you go. Get me out legally, please."

"We're trying." Scott sighed. Lydia handed him the phone "Stiles, we haven't been able to do much. I think we've done all that we can do. They're not budging on your case."

"I figured they wouldn't." Stiles sighed. "I'll be fine in here, you know me." He weakly laughed. Scott handed Lydia back the phone.

"Stiles, you are not going to lose hope." She said forcefully. "There is no way we're letting you rot in prison for doing absolutely nothing but defending yourself!" Stiles leant forward again in his seat and looked Lydia straight in the eyes.

"There were times where I didn't just defend myself." He said in a low voice. "There were times where I wanted to. I deserve to be in here."

"Now that's crazy talk!" Lydia exclaimed "You do  _not_ deserve to be in here. I'm going to prove it."

"You can try, Lydia, but I'm currently facing my reality."

 

* * *

 

 

It was the middle of the night, Stiles was staring up into the ceiling of his cell, as he couldn't sleep, and just waiting. He had a bad feeling that something was going to happen, but he couldn't place it. His 'bad feelings' were usually right, so he waited.

It was then that the door to his cell rolled open. Sties sat up just in time to see a bag cover his head.

He thrashed about as he tried to stop himself from being taken, but with no luck. Before the bag was taken away from his head, he felt himself being restrained to a chair with tight ropes. Once the bag was taken away, Stiles' eyes adjusted to the lighting change. He looked up to see Billy, Ernesto and the rest of the gang standing behind one man who was sweating profusely, a shiv in his hands.

"Initiation time." Billy stated. The rest of the gang let out loud yells.

"Oh, fuck me." Stils groaned.

 

* * *

 

 

In the warden's office for the cell block, two wardens were sitting at their stations. One sat, his feet up on the table in front of him while he was reading a book, while the other was combing through the inmates in the cell block's files. The loud shouts from inside the block, caused the two wardens to look at each other and groan.

"Looks like Billy Stone's gang is getting a new member." The warden with his feet on the table said.

"Yikes. I feel bad for the guy they're getting." The other warden grimaced.

"Just for curiosity's sake, you want to see who they got?" He asked, putting his feet back on the ground and pulling up the security tapes for the block. The other warden got out of his seat and walked over, his curiosity peaked. They pulled up the footage of a group of men getting into one cell on the end of the block.

"Who is that?" The other warden asked.

"Um..." The first warden rolled his chair over to his partner's station and picked up a certain file. "Stilinski."

"Geez...they got the sheriff's kid..." The other warden's eyes widened.

"Seems that way." The first sighed. "Let's get back to work."

 

* * *

 

 

In a dark and dirty motel close enough to the prison that they could see it from the window, Hannah pulled the flash drive out of the plastic bag and plugged it into her computer. Erin sat in the corner of the motel, restrained to a chair, a gag in her mouth. Hannah grinned as she opened up the contents of the flash drive.

"Thank you, daddy." She muttered to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles will be getting out of Prison, but when and how is a mystery.
> 
> Also, I just chose a random 'symbol' thing for the gang tattoo, it's not really supposed to have any meaning outside of a gang tattoo. So if it actually has meaning, tell me and I'll change the tattoo.
> 
> Basically Billy's 'gang' has no specific cause, it's just a group of prisoners with the 'brotherhood' mentality.


	9. NOT A CHAPTER - PLEASE READ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> READ!!!

Okay, so updates are going to have to be put on hold for a week or two, very sorry about that. I'm going on a trip where I will not have access to a computer, or time to write, so I'm very sorry about that. The next chapter has been planned out and is ready to begin the gruelling process of being written, but I will not have time to do that for a while.

Sorry about the wait!! But it will all be worth it once I'm back, I promise!


	10. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Rise and shine, rookie"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! The hiatus was full of adventures with my trip! But I did really miss writing, so here's a chapter!

"Rise and shine rookie."

Stiles groaned as he opened his eyes, harsh lighting suddenly infiltrating his senses, making his shut his eyes once again. He took a deep breath and slowly tried to open them, the picture of Billy standing over him suddenly making him flinch. Stiles made a noise as he began to feel that he was in pain. His side hurt badly, as did his shoulder and his cheek.

"What happened?" Stiles asked, coughing. Billy grinned and helped him up.

Stiles was suddenly faced with a mirror, realising that he was in the locker room of the prison. There was a relatively deep gash on his cheek, starting from just under his eye to the side of his chin. It had been hastily patched up, presumably by the others, and didn't look too good, but Stiles wasn't going to mention it. The next spot his eyes found, was his side. There was a large patch of blood on his shit, coming from a small hole in it. Stiles recognised the wound. He had managed to be stabbed by the shiv. Like his cheek, the stab wound had been patched up crudely. Luckily, the stab wound wasn't deep, which Stiles guessed was why he was still standing. Finally, Stiles went for his shoulder. Pulling up the sleeve of his shirt, Stiles was suddenly assaulted with the image of a griffin. Letting out a loud groan, Stiles dropped the sleeve and sat down on one of the benches in the locker room.

"So I guess I passed, then?" He let out a weak chuckle.

"Yeah." Billy nodded. "Welcome to the gang, brother."

"Yay..." Stiles coughed out sarcastically. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?" Billy asked

"Restrain me, stab me, tattoo me all without my consent." Stiles eyed Billy darkly.

"It's all part of the initiation, kid."

"Initiation my ass." Stiles stood, wincing with the pain. "You do it because you like torturing kids willing to join you. I saw the look on your face when I wok up.  _Pure glee_." Stiles spat.

"Hey, calm down," Billy put his hands up defensively. Stiles scoffed and went to sit back down.

"You know, my dad is going to hate me." Stiles told Billy.

"Why?"

"Well, he's the sheriff of my hometown, and his only son has now joined a prison gang." He laughed, but it had no humour.

 

* * *

 

 

The police stormed a motel late one afternoon. Armed with S.W.A.T. gear, a unit of men breached a specific room, going inside shouting 'police'. They searched the room, but one specific man deviated from the group, his eyes moving to a body that had seemingly been tortured and killed.

"Sir," The man said into his comms unit "We've got a body."

 _"I'll get someone in to ID it."_ His superior stated.

"No need." The man sighed "It's Agent Erin Brown, FBI."

 

* * *

 

Stiles was taken into custody, placed inside another interrogation room, cuffed to the table and left to his thoughts for just under an hour. He was expecting Erin to greet him, but was surprised when a man walked through the door, carrying a file. Stiles stared at the man, presumably an agent, his eyes never leaving the man's face. The man sat down, shifting uncomfortably under Stiles' gaze, but proceeded to open the file at his fingertips.

"My name is Agent Mark Burrows." He paused to look back up at Stiles. "FBI."

"Where's Agent Brown?" Stiles asked, confusion lacing his tone. Burrows coughed and looked down, putting a picture in front of Stiles.

"She's dead."

Stiles looked at the picture, Erin bound, gagged and covered in blood, wounds that made it so Stiles could barely see the skin that lay beneath. He gulped at the sight, a gag rising up into the back of his throat. Pushing it down, Stiles turned the picture over and faced Burrows.

"How?" Stiles asked

"We don't know." Burrows sighed "We haven't been in contact with her for around two days now. It's assumed that she's only been dead for twelve or so hours." Burrows put the picture back into his file and closed it. "That means, the lead agent on your case has now been murdered." Stiles raised an eyebrow at that thought "Any evidence she had goes to me and I pick it up. You're my responsibility now."

"Great..." Stiles rolled his eyes. "So, Agent Burrows. What's next for me?"

"What's next? Well, you go back to your cell, play with your new friends," Burrows gestured to Stiles' shoulder where the tattoo sat "And go about your daily life."

"What? That's it?" Stiles grunted out a laugh "Agent Brown was more interesting than you. I  _thank you_ , really, for the complete an utter lack of substance to this meeting." Stiles let out an almost maniacal laugh. "I'll be seeing you, Agent Burrows." Stiles banged his fist on the table and the door opened, a warden coming through, un-cuffing Stiles from the table and escorting him out.

 

* * *

 

 

"I can't find a single thing to get Stiles out!" Lydia yelled at the pack meeting, throwing a book Derek's way. Derek recoiled when the book hit the wall behind him.

"Lydia, calm down." Scott told her, his arms out in front of him warily. "Please."

"I just...we need him." She sighed and slumped onto the couch next to Malia. "It's not the same without him, and on top of all that, we have a whole lot of supernatural crap to take care of. He's always the one with the plans."

"Hey, it'll be okay. We'll find a way, you know we will." Malia said. Lydia gave her a appreciating smile.

"He didn't take my offer to break him out." Peter called from his spot on the stairs "He wanted to get out legally, but now it seems that's not an option."

"You're right." Scott muttered. Everyone in the room looked to him. "We can't get him out legally, at least not quickly." He looked to Lydia who shrugged "So, there's only one thing we can do, and we're going to have to make Stiles comply with it."

"We're going to stage a prison break." Derek finished.

 

* * *

 

 

Hannah sat in a stolen van sitting just outside the prison, a fake warden's uniform on and an ID she got from a contact. She took a deep breath and got out of the van, making her way into the prison, having to show her ID at certain checkpoints. When inside the prison, she made her way to one of the offices next to a cell block opening, picking the lock with her claws. Hannah sat down in front of the computer, growling when it asked her for a password. Instead of going and threatening the password out of the wardens, she rummaged around the desk, stopping only when she found a small notebook with three passwords written inside. Hannah tried all three, with the third being the password to the computer. Hannah found the file she was looking for and left the office.

She walked through one of the cell blocks and came to a specific cell. Inside, she found who she was looking for. Stiles Stilinski.

"Hello, Stiles." She grinned as he looked up at her, his eyes widening when her eyes turned an electric blue.

"Really? Another werewolf." He grunted "Let me guess, you're not actually a warden here." Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"Does that surprise you?"

"Do you really think it surprises me?" Stiles rolled his eyes "What do you want?"

"All in due time." She grinned, unlocked his cell with her claws and advanced towards him. Stiles backed himself into a corner of the cell. "Relax, I'm not going to kill you." She sighed just as she punched Stiles unconscious, his body slumping to the ground.

The warden's didn't notice when a young, female warden wheeled a gurney with a filled bodybag on top out to the ambulance entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously this chapter's a bit of a filler, but it's setting up for the climax.


	11. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who do you want to be, Stiles?"

Stiles was faced with a dark room once he opened his eyes. The only light came from a tiny window on the top of the nearest wall, and even then the light only illuminated part of the room dimly. Stiles struggled and tried to move, figuring out quickly that he had been restrained to the chair he was sitting on. Letting out a groan of frustration, Stiles scanned what little of the room he could see. It looked as if he was being kept in a basement.

"Wow..." He muttered "Cliche much?"

"I hope you're comfortable." The woman who kidnapped him walked down the stairs and flicked on the lights. "My name is Hannah Walsh." Stiles widened his eyes.

"So...you're related to Alexander then?" He raised an eyebrow

"He was my father." Hannah stated as she approached Stiles. Stiles winced and looked into Hannah's eyes.

"So is trying to kill me in the family genes or am I just  _that_ lucky?" Stiles asked with a roll of his eyes.

"I heard you were smart." Hannah told him. "I need your help  _before_ I kill you."

"Okay..." Stiles trailed off "What for?" Hannah pulled a flash drive out of her pocket.

"This flash drive holds the names of every Alpha in the country and where they live. Problem is, those names are all inside a specific file, a ledger of names and addresses. There's hundreds of names and not every one of them is an Alpha." Hannah explained "There's a key to figure out which name belongs to an Alpha, but I can't figure it out on my own."

"So...you need me? Why me?" Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "I mean, I'm smart, but I'm not the only person who could have helped."

"Figured I'd kill two birds with one stone. Decrypt the file and kill the man who murdered my father." Hannah leant forward and rested her hands on the arms to the chair, her face inches from Stiles'. "I will kill you slowly and painfully if you don't do as you've been ordered. Whereas, I will do it quickly if you do what I'm asking."

 

* * *

 

 

"Our plan is going to have to wait." Derek called as he walked through the door to his loft, the rest of the pack eying him.

"What's wrong?" Malia asked.

"Channel seven." Derek nodded to the TV. Malia turned the TV on and flicked it to channel seven.

 _'Recently convicted prisoner, Stiles Stilinski, has somehow escaped San Quentin State Prison. It is believed he was working with a female warden. The female is described to be of average height with blonde hair.'_ a picture taken from security footage flicked onto the screen, then a photo of Stiles, his mugshot.  _'Stilinski is 5'11 with dark brown hair, eyes and has stubble. He was last seen wearing his prison uniform. Both individuals are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. If anyone knows anything, call the number on the screen._ _'_ The reporter finished. Malia flicked off the TV and turned to Scott.

"This is bad." She said

"No duh." Lydia groaned "Do you think he was actually working with her?"

"No." Peter spoke up "He seemed pretty convinced to get out the right way when I tried to get him out. This is something else."

"Was he kidnapped?" Liam asked. Derek nodded.

"It's possible."

"We need to save him." Scott stated. "He's not a wolf, he can't survive as long as we can. We have to find him quickly."

"I'll call Parrish." Lydia pulled out her phone. "We're going to ned all the help we can get."

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles combed through the contents of the flash drive, one of his hands free while he typed slowly on Hannah's laptop. He saw the file she had mentioned, as well as one other file that was named  _'_ _Destroyer'_. Curiosity got the better of him as he opened the file, his eyes widening at the contents. Seeing that Hannah was walking back into the basement, Stiles quickly closed the file and went back to decrypting the Alpha file.

"How's it going, Stiles?" Hannah asked, likely noticing Stiles' rapid heart rate.

"It's going good. How's it going on your murder spree?" Stiles rolled his eyes, not able to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten out yet. Surely your gang friends must've taught you some things." Hannah stated mockingly. Stiles groaned.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm very human and going up against a murderous psychotic werewolf is not exactly the best cause of action." Stiles told her as he typed. Suddenly, the screen showed an isolated name. "Here, the first name is Veronica Marlon. Lives not far from here." Stiles turned the screen to show the address. "Is that good enough for you?"

"Yeah. Yeah that is." Hannah grinned "You don't have to keep going. Once I come back, I'll have all I need." She practically ran out of the basement.

While Hannah was gone, Stiles took the time to study the  _'Destroyer'_ file.

 

* * *

 

 

Noah, Derek, Scott and Lydia had driven to San Quentin State Prison, there to inspect the crime scene. Noah had gotten in because Stiles was his son and Noah was the sheriff of Beacon Hills, while Derek, Scott and Lydia had gotten in by saying they were special consultants to the department. Luckily for Lydia, none of the officers and warden's hanging around the scene had seen her on the news. The group made their way to Stiles' cell, accompanied by an officer and a warden.

"I'm not sure if there's still some stuff around from the last incident, but if there is blood or something along those lines, it's only from that incident." The officer said. "I'll just be outside." He said before stepping out of the cell.

"What incident?" Scott asked.

"Stiles' cellmate died." Derek told him.

"Really? How?" Scott seemed concerned. Derek rolled his eyes.

* * *

"Stiles killed him." Derek told him. Scott's eyes widened.

"He wouldn't." He said with pure conviction.

"According to Peter, it was an accident. He got those words from Stiles." Derek sighed. "We're not here to debate Stiles' questionable morality, we're here to find him."

"Fine." Scott grumbled.

"Can you catch a scent?" Noah asked, his concern for Stiles showing.

"Yeah...I think." Derek told him. "Scott, you're with me, Lydia, stay with the Sheriff."

"Got it." Lydia nodded.

Derek followed his nose out of the cell, not stopping when the officer tried to stop him, and made his way to the ambulance entrance before stopping.

"What is it?" Scott asked.

"Whoever took him got in a vehicle." Derek sighed. "We need to go back. In order to not be suspicious, they would have had to go out in an ambulance."

"Meaning we need to look for an ambulance?" Scott asked, unsure of himself.

"Exactly." Derek nodded. "First place I'd check is the nearest hospital, see if I can scent the kidnapper on any of their ambulances." He took a deep breath "But, I would also get the Sheriff to give us access to the security footage so we can see if we can get a license plate to put out an APB." Derek explained. Scott gave him an odd look. "What?"

"You just said more words than I've heard you say in a month." Scott teased. Derek rolled his eyes.

"You're not around me enough to hear me talk." Derek grunted.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles' eyes got progressively wider when he read the file, his mind going into hyperdrive with theories and ways to save everyone. His heart was pounding as he read, his eyes going back to the first line of the file.

_'How to control the whole supernatural population, creating a super pack to dominate.'_

"We're so fucked..." Stiles gasped to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if it's any good and if I should continue please!! I would appreciate it!


End file.
